


Sometimes It's The Little Things

by The_Mouse_of_Anon



Series: Emergency Fics [12]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: 17-year-old Damian isn't as much of a pain in the ass, Angst, Colin thinking too much, Colin's glad he knows Damian even if his thoughts are getting out of hand, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, he's matured a little, reference to past torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 05:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13264896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Mouse_of_Anon/pseuds/The_Mouse_of_Anon
Summary: Colin didn’t like thinking about family. Or, more accurately, he didn’t like thinking about his lack of one. It wasn’t something he wanted to focus on. It wasn’t something he wanted to think about. Unfortunately he couldn't always avoid it.





	Sometimes It's The Little Things

**Author's Note:**

> The 12th of my Emergency Fics. The prompt for this one was DamiColin with angst focusing on Colin. 
> 
> Also, just in case there’s any confusion, I included a little Arabic on Damian’s part ( _habibi_ – ‘my love’ or ‘beloved’– and _ouhibbouka_ – I love you). I tried my best to make sure it was accurate. (So if anyone speaks Arabic and I got it wrong, please let me know.)

Colin didn’t like thinking about family. Or, more accurately, he didn’t like thinking about his lack of one. It wasn’t something he wanted to focus on. It wasn’t something he wanted to think about. Thinking about it only ever made him upset, and while Colin wasn’t as bad as some, he couldn’t erase his anger issues— and whenever he was upset it was _really_ hard to keep his temper in check. So he tried not to think about it and put it out of his mind. It wasn’t always effective. Like now.

He and Damian were in one of the League’s various bases (more like a safehouse than anything) alone. Colin was sitting on a couch in what could have been termed either a living room area or a lounge, brooding; honestly it didn’t matter what the space was called. What mattered was the fact that he was brooding and had been brooding for a long time. Damian had been standing nearby, waiting, but Colin didn’t feel inclined to break the silence first.

Finally, Damian chose to speak up and casually asked, “What’s bothering you Wilkes?” Of _course_ he could tell that Colin was stewing over something. After having known each other for a little over six years it only made sense that he _knew_ when Colin was close to blowing up.

“Nothing.”

“We both know that’s a lie.”

Colin scowled. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Damian arched an eyebrow as he crossed his arms. After a moment or two he said, “We both know I’m not good with talking about ‘feelings,’ but even I know that trying to ignore it when you’re this frustrated isn’t a good thing.”

“You can’t fix it Damian,” Colin snapped.

Silence stretched for a few long moments before Damian said, “You don’t have to stay here on-base, or even go back to the orphanage. You’re more than welcome to stay at the manor.” This was hardly the first time Damian had said something of the sort while clearly implying that Colin should move in rather than just visit.

It was no secret that at times Colin _hated_ having to stay at the orphanage, but at the same time he wasn’t happy that he would age out of it soon. It was all he had known, and while it wasn’t accurate to say he had nowhere to go (Damian would hardly tolerate Colin ending up on the street), it was everything he’d had and— in a year— would lose.

“That’s just it, Damian. Moving in wouldn’t help anything. Sure, your family is great and all, don’t get me wrong, but they’re not _mine_. And _don’t_ try to suggest that they would adopt me because I _refuse_ to consider becoming my boyfriend’s _brother_.” He was agitated, but trying to keep it in check. Even so, he could feel the distant itching sensation in his spine that usually signaled the beginning of his physical shift to Abuse. He forcefully clamped it down.

“They don’t dislike you. And you’ve said you like the manor when you’re there anyway.” Apparently he felt like being persistent.

The itch in Colin’s spine spread to a vague ache in the bones of his arms and hands. “That’s not the point!” he burst out before lunging to his feet to pace back-and-forth. “You want to know what’s bothering me? Fine. The problem is that moving in _won’t change anything_.”

Damian watched silently as Colin paced, his rant becoming more heated the longer he spoke.

“Moving in won’t change the fact that _I’ve_ never had a family who gave a shit about me, or at least not for long anyway! Moving in won’t change the fact that I never had a home, that no one wanted to put up with my anger issues, that I was considered ‘too much of a problem’ to even be _fostered_. It won’t change the fact that I was considered so much of a ‘problem’ that almost _no one_ cared to go _looking_ for me when I went missing and was getting experimented on in that damned warehouse! If I had died I would have just been one more nameless little body mentioned on the news with no one to even see or mourn the fact that I wasn’t there anymore… _if_ my body had even been _found_. No one wondering where I went, what happened, and no one to even miss me enough to have a hard time changing anything in a room that had been _mine_.” He came to a stop in his pacing, his hands flexing as a muscle in his jaw worked. It was getting hard to hold the shift back, but he was determined not to lose that much control.

Damian almost reached out to him, but pulled back. Something else that had come from knowing Colin for so long was the awareness that sometimes it wasn’t wise to try to touch Colin when he was upset, unless he indicated otherwise.

When Colin started speaking again, it was in a far more subdued tone as he dropped back into his seat on the couch. “It can’t take away the fact that I _never_ had anyone to come home to, to care about, or to even have care about _me_. I never had siblings, or _parents_ , or even _grandparents_. No one cared, no one _wanted_ to care, all because I was the pain-in-the-ass orphan with anger issues. It didn’t matter how good I was, how hard I tried. I was too much to handle. And because of that, if I died, no one would have cared. I would have just been one more damned statistic.”

Damian frowned and moved to sit on the arm of the couch. When Colin didn’t tell him to back off, he placed a hand on Colin’s shoulder. “ _Habibi_ … You _have_ a place. You _always_ have a place, even if we don’t last.” It was rare for Damian to be gentle, rare to show that side. It had taken years for Damian to let those walls down even around Colin, and Colin was the one emotionally closest to him.

Colin could feel his eyes trying to well up and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes while forcing himself to breathe slowly. He didn’t want to cry, crying would have been too much and would have been too overwhelming in that moment, but he couldn’t help the faint tremble that escaped anyway. When he trusted himself to speak without his voice cracking, he weakly laughed out, “You’re such a goddamn sap. A sap who puts up this giant front of being a fucking asshole except for moments like this when I need you like the pain-in-the-ass that I am.” His throat felt thick with unshed tears.

A thoughtful hum emanated from Damian before he gently tugged Colin closer and soothingly combed the fingers of his right hand through Colin’s hair. “Only around you, _habibi_. _Ouhibbouka_. This you know.”

Colin held it together for a moment longer before he turned and buried his face in Damian’s chest and wrapped his arms around him. Even through the tears he struggled to keep in check, he said, “Next time I see them I’m telling your family you’re a giant fucking sap.”

“Better that than telling them you’re breaking up with me.”

“Shut up.” Despite the teasing, Colin felt a little better. Nothing could erase the gap in Colin’s life of what he hadn’t had, but at least on days like this Damian knew how to make it bearable.


End file.
